


i wanna grow up from the rhythm of a younger heart (it leads just like a river runs)

by thispapermoon



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Camping, Donuts, F/F, Fluff, I stg, Nearly half this fic is them nearly boning but getting somehow distracted, Picnics, Pippa Pentangle might be responsible for the myth that witches melt from water, Smut, Strawberries, The one with the Rowboat, Two witches in love, Underwater kisses, Yes you read that right, so sorry about that?, this is why it took them 30 long af years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispapermoon/pseuds/thispapermoon
Summary: “Attractiveness hardly matters in the effectiveness of a potions ingredient.”Pippa swallows the last bites of her sandwich and smiles. “No, but it doesn’t hurt and it makes the experience rather more enjoyable, doesn’t it? Better than newts eyes at any rate.”Hecate looks baffled. “Newts eyes are one of the most basic - the most commonly used ingredient that a witch could - “ She breaks off and casts her eyes skyward when Pippa laughs anew. “Honestly, Pippa.”But she’s nearly smiling again and Pippa turns and pulls a basket of strawberries out of their hamper, setting it between them. Hecate’s long fingers come out and pluck up a berry and Pippa watches transfixed as she bites into it, her nose already buried back in her notebook. She must sense Pippa’s gaze because after a moment she looks up, a tight frown between her eyebrows. “What?”****Pippa and Hecate go on a boating trip. Adventures are had.





	i wanna grow up from the rhythm of a younger heart (it leads just like a river runs)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hi there. I started this fic back in Feb and the first half was written when I was higher than anything on painkillers after surgery LOL. Which is why it has a really strange inspiration because I was rereading one of my fav books, "To Say Nothing of the Dog," by Connie Willis at the time. It's a delightful romp about time traveling historians from the future going back to Victorian times and having to unexpectedly go on a boating trip on the Thames. None of this matters for the plot of my fic, fyi. But it feels important to explain that aside from a summer of rowing, I know nothing about boats other than from that book. So if you do know something about boats, forgive me. 
> 
> Anyway, that's how I came to throw in Pippa and Hecate on the river along with some mentions of Nereids. And voilà, this fic was born. And then it was immediately abandoned until last week when I decided it needed to finally be finished so that I can sleep at night. 
> 
> Also, apologies for not being so great with responding to comments as of late. All I really have time for rn is work, and fic writing when I can. But I read your comments and they mean so much and I hope to reply to them someday soon! xo
> 
> Title is from the Sia cover of 'Like a River Runs' by Bleachers

Pippa yawns a bit, stretching her arms up and over her head to release the tightness in her back. The morning sun is warm on her shoulders and she tilts her head to squint at its brightness.

“Come on, Hiccup, you’ve packed and repacked the boat twice already. That’s as many times as days we’ll be gone.”

She’s met with a glare before Hecate returns to shuffling the food hamper so that it’s more securely wedged in the stern.

“If we hit an eddy and it all goes flying, I’m not going to be the one to jump in and retrieve it.”

“Hiccup, we’re _witches_. You used a transference spell to cross the _room_ this morning. If anything goes overboard, there are much easier ways to make sure we get our afternoon tea and biscuits than going for a dip in the Rumblie River.”

Pippa steps into the boat and takes a seat at the cox lines.  

“Now sit down, you’re rowing first. Or at least until we get out into the river. And then we’re _also_ using magic to steer. Because we’re _witches._ ”

Hecate rolls her eyes but finishes fussing with their bags and settles herself down between the oars.

“Fine.”

Pippa smiles winningly at Hecate and juts her chin in the direction of the open water.

“Row away then.”

Huffing, Hecate seizes her oars and pushes out from the shore while Pippa gives a pull on the lines, steering them onto the river.

She turns for one last glimpse of Pentangle’s as they pass beyond a stand of chestnuts, watching until the pink walls of the castle are lost behind the trees.

The boat trip had been her idea. A holiday of sorts - though she’d passed it off to Hecate as a mission take advantage of the upcoming full May moon by which they could gather lily blossoms and other aquatic potions ingredients.

Hecate, in her usual way, had been reluctant at first. But Pippa had worn her down by producing a cross reference between _The Flora and Fauna of the Rumblie River_ and a handy little book called _Magnified by Moonlight: A Field Guide to Lunar Radiance and Proper Potions Potency_. It had proved to be quite effective in lowering Hecate’s skeptical eyebrows. In fact, it caused the small, focused wrinkle to appear between them instead, the one that Pippa knows to mean that Hecate’s mind had gone whirling away with the possibilities of potions made from moonlight imbued water lobelias and the teeth of three-spined sticklebacks.

And so here they are.

It’s is a glorious day, thinks Pippa. The soft morning mist rising into blue sky, the sun shining above, the sweet smell of summer clover in the air, with buttercups that wave fondly in the breeze as the trees that surround Pentagon's give way to open meadow.

And it’s even _more_ glorious to see the way Hecate’s arms move under the fabric of her shirtsleeves as she pulls on the oars.

In fact, Pippa quite likes Hecate like this - her severe ebony day dress replaced with a two-piece garment of forest green brocade. A rather Edwardian look, Pippa muses, as she takes in the way the skirt falls just so across Hecate’s seat and the hull of the boat.

Rather than the tightly fitted lines of Hecate’s typical frocks, the green skirt rises into a waistcoat and, beneath it, Hecate wears a cream linen blouse that buttons prettily at the wrists. The color combination is striking on her, complimenting her dark hair, coiled low on her neck today to allow for a sensible straw boater hat with a matching green band.

“Pippa Pentangle, are you trying to steer us into a sandbar? Pay attention - starboard! Starboard!”

Jerking back into awareness, Pippa blushes and furiously pulls on the lines to guide them around the sandy outcropping they’d been bearing down on.

“If you shipwreck us, Pipsqueak, not even the allure of moonlight imbued bogbean will be strong enough to keep me from transferring home immediately.”

Pippa rolls her eyes and adjust the lines some more.

“Alright, fine, let’s make it to that next bend and then we’ll leave the boat to its own devices. And _you_ can do the charm.”

 _And then I can keep my eyes on something much more interesting than the horizon_.

Hecate rows onwards and Pippa tries to focus on the lines and _decidedly_ _not_ on how smoothly Hecate moves as she catches the oars in the water before feathering them back to propel them forward. It’s makes her tummy feel fluttery and her brain foggy and she turns away before she can run them aground on another sandbar.

Soon enough Hecate snaps her fingers and the oars begin to row themselves, before quirking a finger in the direction where Pippa sits. She feels the lines in her hand begin to move of their own accord, guiding their boat easily around the riverbend.

“That should keep us going until we want to picnic for lunch.” Hecate dusts off her hands and shifts over to one one of the other benches.

“Wonderful!” Pippa beams and moves to sit across from her, stretching out her legs and pulling off her straw hat to let her hair tumble down in the sunlight. She’s wearing a decidedly different outfit than her companion, and a rather different outfit than she would ever be seen in amongst witching company - other than Hecate and perhaps the Pentangle’s garden witches that is.

Still, she likes the way she feels in her loose brown trousers, likes the way they’re well worn and soft and how they’ve been rolled up to just above the boots she wears. She feels like an adventurer, like a true waterman on Thames, capable and strong. She pauses to roll up the sleeves of her button down a little higher before resting her elbows on the side of the boat.

“Adventure!” She throws her head back and grins at the sun. When she looks forward again, Hecate is grinning too, amongst the black sun spots that crowd her vision, and her heart feels lighter than the summer breeze.

______

The skiffs and punts they pass along the way are oblivious to their presence thanks to the concealment charm Pippa has magickced over their boat. But for the most part, the river is quiet and serene.

By noon they’ve past several small towns along the river, the most recent being a minor witching village that gives way to farmland, and then to untamed fields dotted with glades of trees and willows that trail their long-armed branches through the water.

They tie the boat and take lunch on a high riverbank watching the occasional vessel float past, and Pippa kicks out her legs to spread her lunch across her lap, leaning back one hand and gesturing with her sandwich with the other.

“I thought we’d make it to Pinewick’s End in time for dinner,” she chews and swallows, tilting her head slightly to observe Hecate who sits primly on the blanket, her lunch tidily arranged beside her. “It’s a slightly bigger witching village than the hamlets we’ve passed. We could get dinner there, if you like.”

“I suppose that would be alright.”

“Good, because then we’ll want to row just a bit farther up river for our collections. I’m sure the river by Pinewick will get fairly picked over and we want to have all the best haul.”

Ducking her head into a nod, Hecate brushes her fingers together to remove the last crumbs of her meal and draws a small notebook out of the air which she bends over.  “Starwort, and watercress, and brooklime,” she mutters, reviewing her lists. “And if we can find calmer waters, broad and curled pondweed, both. Mildred Hubble has quite gone through our stores.”

Pippa laughs, pleased she Hecate’s lips tug up ever so slightly at the sound. “Don’t forget water-fringe. Oh, and I’d love to find some loosestrife if we can.”

“Purple or yellow?”

“Yellow, preferably. It does far better when stabilizing a serum, doesn’t it? Though the purple is so lovely.”

“Attractiveness hardly matters in the effectiveness of a potions ingredient.”  

Pippa swallows the last bites of her sandwich and smiles. “No, but it doesn’t hurt and it makes the experience rather more enjoyable, doesn’t it? Better than newts eyes at any rate.”

Hecate looks baffled. “Newts eyes are one of the most basic - the most commonly used ingredient that a witch could - “ She breaks off and casts her eyes skyward when Pippa laughs anew. “Honestly, Pippa.”

But she’s nearly smiling again and Pippa turns and pulls a basket of strawberries out of their hamper, setting it between them. Hecate’s long fingers come out and pluck up a berry and Pippa watches transfixed as she bites into it, her nose already buried back in her notebook. She must sense Pippa’s gaze because after a moment she looks up, a tight frown between her eyebrows. “What?”

Caught out, Pippa blushes and smooths her hands over her pants before restlessly reaching for a strawberry of her own. “Nothing.”

But with Hecate’s eyes still on her she feels self conscious, suddenly unsure, and she can’t bring herself take a bite into it; the act feels too intimate, too revealing somehow.  Instead, she rolls the red berry between her fingers, examining all the tiny seeds that cling to its sweet flesh.

“You like beautiful things.” Hecate is still watching her, and her voice is matter-of-fact, but there’s something below it. An edge - or a resentment -  something Pippa can’t place but that makes her stomach feel uneasy. It reminds her that Hecate left her without so much as a goodbye once before, she easily could again.

And Pippa still doesn't know why.

Just knows that she hadn’t been enough to make Hecate stay.

She collects herself and turns with a bright smile, returning the berry to the basket. “I think I’ll save it for latter. A midnight snack perhaps once we’re done with our gathering.”

Hecate shrugs and pulls a quill from the air, scratching away at her notebook. “Water-fringe. And loosestrife. Yellow.” Pippa doesn’t know why, but she flushes. The funny feeling in her stomach intensifies, tipping from uncertainty to near warmth at Hecate’s cataloging of her preferences.

She’s just about to suggest they pack up and move on, when there’s a commotion down on the river and she glances up.  

Two girls burst through the branches of a willow tree, flying at great speed, brooms perfectly level, their laughter piercing the air.

Pippa’s breath catches as Hecate’s head comes up to watch as well.

The girls rise in one fluid movement to stand on their broomstick handles, balancing steadily despite the motion. The young witch closest to their side of the bank leaps out and catches the other broom between her hands as the second girl does the same and they swing out into an acrobatic routine, flipping and tumbling from broom to broom, their toes just skimming the water below.

Beside her Hecate is glowing hot, or maybe Pippa’s just feeling the heat from own face, as they watch the girls together with rapt attention, unable to look away, unable to look at each other.

Just as the fliers cross before them, one of the girls slips, her hand missing the broom.  It skitters away down the river without her and the other girl catches her, pulling her up onto her own broom by her waist, both of them laughing at the near miss, cheeks pink, smiles wide.

Pippa isn’t sure if the sharp inhale of breath comes from her or from Hecate at the sight of them.

She’s not sure she wants to know.

Both girls now safely on one broom, the rescued girl rests her forehead against the back of the other witch. She says something into the fabric of her display suit that makes the other girl laugh and reach down to pull her arms more tightly around her before speeding them off to collect the wayward broom.

The river bends.

And then they are gone.

There is silence. Endless, painful silence where Pippa can hear nothing but the thump of her own heart and the rush of blood in her ears. She sits with her arms tucked around her knees, hardly darking to move least she cry. Least Hecate bolt.

It’s not until a cloud scuttles across the sun, blotting out the light that she rises, wipes her hands smartly on her pants and sets about collecting their things.

“That girl would have made the pullover if she’d swung out a bit further before releasing. She needed more momentum.” She pitches her voice into bright, conversational tones though her stomach is cramping significantly in distress.

She crouches to shut the lid of the basket and stands again, eyes finally sliding over to Hecate who hasn’t moved. She’s staring at Pippa. Jaw clenched, eyebrows once again pulled tightly together. When she doesn’t move Pippa chews worriedly at her lip, at a loss for how to navigate Hecate when she’s like this. At a loss for how to navigate her own reeling emotions.

The sky darkens further and she tears her gaze away and upward. “We better go. Hopefully we can beat the storm to Pinewick’s. I’d rather not have to use a Weather Spell unless we have to.”

Hecate rises in one movement, sweeping her hand through the air until the picnic blanket is folded neatly and tucked beneath her arm. “Agreed.”

 _So we’re not going to talk about it._  

Half relieved, half disconcerted, Pippa leads the way back to the boat, taking up Hecate’s place at the oars. She needs to channel her energy somewhere, needs the bite of wood again her soft palms, needs to feel her muscles strain as Hecate navigates them back onto the river and she rows against increasingly choppy waters.

The sky is darker and darker still and she loses herself in the repetitive motion of rowing, turning Hecate’s offer of a spell down and focusing determindley on setting an aggressive pace down the river. The lightness between them has disappeared with the sun, disappeared with girls who laughed and vaulted from broom to broom.

Pippa tries not to get lost in memories. Tries not to remember catching Hecate the same way or Hecate catching her. Of the feeling of Hecate behind her on a single broom, warm, and steady and so very sure of herself, both of them at the peak of their athletic prime. Both at the peak of their intimacy.

She tries not to think about how she often wished to tilt her head back, turn just slightly, and meet Hecate’s mouth with her own. How right it would have felt to her. To taste the salt on her skin as their lips met, mouths parted, tongues touched.

The oar catches badly and she fails to drive the boat forward causing it to dip and buckle. She strains to pull the submerged oar out, quickly casting the spell to take over the rowing and trying not to blush.

Standing, she makes her way to where Hecate sits at the lines and casts the spell to steer as well.

“I brought cards,” She doesn’t fancy playing a game right now, but she doesn’t fancy this tension either. And with Hecate sometimes this does feel like a game, one where she never knows what scores her points. “We could play Radicast?”

“The game where the cards explode and light themselves aflame?” Hecate arches an eyebrow but her tone is more wry than severe. Pippa softens. Knows Hecate is trying, too.  

She rolls her eyes and summons the pack. “Fine, perhaps not in a wooden boat. I can pick a card and you can test your divination skills by trying to guess what it is?”

“I’d rather fall overboard.” Hecate’s eyes look brighter and Pippa sits beside her, laying the cards down. A joke about playing Old Maid sits on her tongue but it just makes her feel worse again and she begins to deal instead.

“Alright, let’s try Go Fish.”

“Go Fish?”

“It fits our environment. And it’s better than War,” She looks pointedly at Hecate and Hecate holds her gaze for a split second before nodding.

“Yes. It is.”

Heartened, Pippa finishes distributing the cards and examines her hand. “Do you have any Mages?”

Hecate huffs and holds out two cards.

“Great. Any Hags?”

One card.

“And how about Warlocks?”

Hecate looks pleased.

“Go fish.”

______

The sky is increasingly ominous and by the time they reach Pinewick’s End the clouds are threatening to burst. They make for shore, Pippa at the oars again, and Hecate transfers onto the bank to tie up their boat.

Pippa turns and casts a spell over their belongings to render them impermeable to water before rising. But before she can transfer, a large gust of wind slams the boat, rocking it dangerously and she’s thrown suddenly sideways. The river comes up to meet her at with alarming swiftness and she shrieks.

Her arms flail through the air.

And then through nothing.

And then strong arms catch her as she reappears on the river bank, stumbling sideways into Hecate whose transference spell runs like wildfire through her every cell, making her woozy and dizzy and filled with a nearly unbearable longing. As it always does.

Completely out of sorts, her knees fail her and she sags against Hecate, trying to catch her breath. But Hecate doesn't let go. Her arms remain around her with a warmth, and a steadiness, that causes emotion to prick behind Pippa’s eyes. Her hands grip Pippa’s shoulders, holding her upright and they stand together for a long moment, simply breathing.

Slowly Pippa raises her eyes and looks up to find Hecate’s face inches from her own.

_Oh._

There’s something soft in Hecate’s eyes. Something gentle. It makes Pippa feel warmer than she can ever remember feeling before. Full, and happy, and safe, and _Merlin._

They stand clasped together, Pippa’s hands still circling Hecate’s waist as they hold each other’s gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Hecate breathes and it’s all Pippa can do not to raise herself up on her toes and kiss her right then and there.

 _For leaving?_ She thinks fuzzily, hopes fuzzily, distracted by Hecate’s proximity. Throat suddenly very dry, she swallows. “What for?”

“Unexpected transference. I know your feelings on it.” Hecate’s breath is a whisper against her  cheek, her voice gentle in a way Pippa’s rarely heard it - not for years and years - and she can’t help but shudder at the sensations it elicits within her.

Hecate seems to take it as a confirmation of her fears and looks dismayed but Pippa grips her tighter before she can so much as stiffen.

“It’s alright,” she murmurs, stomach tightening when she realizes that in her boots she fits just perfectly into Hecate’s protective embrace.

She wants to say more, longs to say more, but a raindrop lands wetly on her nose and she jerks in surprise.

And Hecate pulls back, but only slightly, shifting so that her arm is tucked within Pippa’s as she turns and leads her up the path to the town. She doesn’t let go of Pippa’s arm and Pippa can feel the warmth of her against her side, a twin sensation pulsing in her heart with its every beat.

She thinks about Hecate’s smile from that morning. Of her fingers around the strawberry. Of her stoney expression after the girls on their brooms had gone and of her laugh - the one that Pippa always imagines surprises Hecate just as much as it surprises her - just moments ago in the boat when Pippa had stolen all her carefully amassed Crone cards.

Now that the adrenaline from her near tumble into the river has subsided, she thinks of Hecate’s face, the fear and concern etched on it right before she threatened to go overboard, the way it had hardened to steely concentration as she worked her transference spell and summoned Pippa to the safety of the shore. To the safety of her arms.

Pippa shivers and Hecate leans in closer, thumb rubbing a gentle circle against the crook of Pippa’s elbow and she feels herself suddenly explode with heat instead. Glancing up she can see Hecate watching her out of the corner of her eye.

 _Well, this is new_.

Decidedly new. Utterly new.

Pippa lets herself relax against Hecate’s side, lets her arm press more solidly into Hecate’s, heart tripping on itself when Hecate remains unconcerned at her touch, allowing their shoulders to bump as they walk, her thumb still brushing against Pippa’s sleeve in a way that is decidedly, _decidedly_ -

Pippa blushes.

Blushes further as they make their way down the high street of the town, deserted except for a few shoppers who hurry past them, too eager to get out of the impending rain to pay them much mind - blushes because still Hecate doesn’t put the customary distance between them. She stays close, stays _intimate_ , and Pippa can hardly breath over what she hopes it all could mean.

They reach the tavern right as the rain releases itself in a torrent and Hecate spells open the door, releasing Pippa’s arm only to brush her fingertips against the small of her back as she guides her inside.

 _Merlin_.

Biting down on her lip, she tries to collect herself as they are seated. It’s almost too much to hope for. Almost too much to process. She can still feel where Hecate’s fingers pressed against the base of her spine, warming her there, warming her everywhere. When she looks up, Hecate is seated across from her, looking at her in a way that makes Pippa’s stomach flip.

A waiter appears and offers them wine and Hecate looks to her, quirking an eyebrow, leaving the decision to Pippa who nods. Hecate’s eyes flash with a small pleased look and Pippa very suddenly rather feels as if she’s on a date.

With Hecate.

On a date with Hecate.

Letting out a long, slow breath, hardly daring to trust her own interpretation of this turn of events, she wraps her fingers around the stem of her wine glass and raises it in a toast.

“To us.” She manages as she clinks their glasses together, blushing when Hecate blushes. But Hecate holds her gaze over the rim of her glass, the curiosity in her eyes melting into something a little more shy, that same pleased expression flickering across her features once more.

They eat and talk, the small table and noisy din of the tavern forcing them close together, their knees bumping as they gesture and debate and laugh. After the first glass of wine, Pippa feels herself fall into a gentle haze. She traces her fingers against the deep crimson velvet of the booth, the softness of the fabric against her fingertips seeming more real somehow than it would without the wine. The rest of the tavern fades out around her until she feels like she’s in her own world, alone with Hecate. Hecate who is lit only by the candles in the room, bathed in warm light, looking gorgeous with dark eyes and flushed cheeks.

“That’s my point, Pippa,” She is saying and Pippa struggles to focus. “Amethysts may be well and good for supporting elementary spell work, but they don’t hold enough of a charge to work as a secondary source of energy.”

Pippa relaxes further back into her booth, knee brushing Hecate’s as she does so, and takes a sip of wine. “That’s not what I’m suggesting at all. What I’m suggesting is that no lump of rock should be given such power that it controls the magic of those who reside near it.”

Hecate eyes her. “You’re talking about Founding Stones.”

“Pentangle’s doesn’t have one and we manage just fine.”

Hecate casts her eyes to the ceiling. “Pippa -”

“I worry about you, is all.” It’s out of her mouth before she can stop it, her fingers just reaching out to alight on the back of Hecate’s hand where it rests on the table. “I’ve always worried about you, Hiccup.”

The mood between them shifts and Hecate’s throat is suddenly working, her eyes dropping to where Pippa’s hand touches hers.

Suddenly self conscious, Pippa begins to remove her hand but Hecate turns her palm over until they’re just resting fingertip to fingertip, the weight of Hecate’s fingers pressing delicately against her skin.

“I’ve never understood why.” Hecate swallows again and Pippa’s heart pounds so hard that the room nearly spins.

She sets down the wine glass in her free and and leans forward.

“Hecate, I -”

There’s a sudden shadow across the table. “Well, isn’t this a quaint reunion. Pippa Pentangle, I didn’t know you were once again performing emotional support to charity cases.”

“Yes, Pippa, I thought you’d given up on Heartbroken Hardbroom. I know you’re known as the Kindest Witch in England, but it’s really not nice at all to lead her on again like you did for all those years.”

Two shadows.

Hecate’s hand flies off her hers as if she’s been burned and Pippa looks up in hot, sick outrage at the witches that loom over their table.

“Vicky Marshlane and Tabitha Dewfeather. I wish I could say this is a pleasant surprise.” She slips honey into her voice to mask the acidity of her words. It works for a moment as Vicky and Tabitha simper down at her before they frown in unison as her meaning sinks in.

Their smiles sharpen.  

Beneath the table Pippa presses her knee firmly against Hecate’s, trying to communicate with her, fearing she’s about ready to bolt. _And just when everything was going so well_.

Tabitha casts an eye over the two of them and lets her gaze settle on Pippa. “Pippa, sweetheart, is that what you’re wearing up at Pentangle’s these days? We heard your school was unconventional, but we hardly thought it was a _farm_.”

Hecate’s on her feet so fast Pippa thinks she’s transferred, her hands balled into fists at her sides, jaw clenched.

Vicky and Tabitha recoil for a moment but when Hecate can’t get words out they lean in, all teeth.

“Call off your bulldog, Pippa. It never was attractive to see her drooling over you so. No wonder you could never get yourself a wizard when she was around. Though,” Vicky sniffs, “it hardly seems things have changed.”

Pippa rises abruptly as well, sliding her hand down Hecate’s arm to her fist. Hecate doesn’t unclench, merely stands frozen, and Pippa speaks only to her, lowly and gently, her shoulders angling away from the two witches before them. “Let’s go, Hecate. They’re not worth it.”

Hecate doesn’t move but her fingers loosen slightly and Pippa takes the opportunity to twine their fingers together. “Let’s go,” she repeats steadily, keeping her eyes on Hecate, hoping that if she acts like Hecate is the only person in the room Pippa cares about, Hecate might just believe that she is.

Behind her Tabitha mutters something and Vicky gives a shrill laugh that causes the hair to stand up on Pippa’s neck. Still, she keeps her eyes on Hecate.

But Vicky is suddenly tugging at her arm, pulling her sharply around. There’s a mean light in her laughing eyes that causes sick dread to flare in Pippa’s stomach.

“I can’t believe we didn’t see it sooner,” she croons as Tabitha snickers. “Pippa Pentangle the Golden Girl, every wizard’s fancy. No wonder none of them stuck.” The smile that curls across her face is triumphant but her eyes hard. “I should've realized it sooner. You always have liked them tall, dark, and handsome.”

She gives that shrill laugh again and Tabitha joins in. Hecate’s suddenly gones from her side, fingers vanishing from between her own and Pippa flushes in anger and frustration, snapping her fingers until bills appear before her. She grabs them out of the air and throws them down on the table.

“Hecate is a million times the witch you lot will ever be. She’s honest, and hardworking, and brilliant, and, yes, _I love her._ I _love_ her. She’s more of a witch and more of a friend than you will ever have the privilege of knowing and if you ever dare - if you _dare_ \- say a word against her _ever_ again I will use every hex I know, is that clear?” She breathes heavily through her nose and glares at them before repeating the words with slow precision. “Is. That. Clear?”

A clap of thunder that has nothing to do with the storm shakes the building and the candles flicker. Sparks crackle along her fingers and the women yelp as she shoves past them, her fingers shocking all that she touches.

The busy tavern has fallen silent at Pippa’s raised voice and the crowd parts before her as she makes for the doorway, all eyes on her, until some patron at a nearby table begins to clap. Soon the entire hall joins in, calling to her and cheering her on as she increases her pace, thinking only of Hecate, only ever of Hecate, until she bursts out into chilly evening air, only to skid to a stop under the roofline when faced with the rain that still falls heavily.

Her fingers still spark with electricity, her magic too wild with anger and adrenaline to be within her control. A droplet lands on her shoulder from the eves and she yelps as it burns her skin, cursing that the idea that witches can melt at the touch of water is dismissed as a folktale.

Obviously those who believe it impossible have never been confronted by a witch this _angry._

Her knees turn to liquid and she sags back against the wall of the tavern, heart and stomach pounding, every moment that passes in which she is unable to follow Hecate seemingly wrenting the irreparable chasm that stretches for so long between them anew.

A frustrated sob tears at her throat and she bangs her fists backwards against the wooden wall behind her.

Only one of them hits.

The other is caught by a warm, strong hand. It wraps around her fist and stops the blow as Hecate slowly emerges from the air beside her.

“Pippa.”

Her voice is low, choked, eyes wet, and hopeful, and confused all at once, and Pippa throws her arms around her neck, hauls her closer and closer still until they’re nearly swaying off balance, bodies pressed together as she buries her face in Hecate’s neck.

“I thought you’d left me.”

Hecate’s fingers are once again gripping her back, holding on as if Pippa’s the only thing that keeps her standing.

“I tried to transfer.” Her voice is strangled and Pippa can feel her chest shaking with emotion against her own. “But I was too angry and it only made me invisible instead.”

“A novice mistake.” Pippa half cries, half smiles into Hecate’s neck, gasping when Hecate gives a shaky sort of laugh and Pippa draws back slightly.

Hecate looks down at her, eyes full of wonder. “I heard what you said.”

“Oh.” It’s all she can think to say. Vaguely she remembers having wine. Vaguely remembers their day in the boat, and their card games and their lunch on a riverbank. It seems so far off and long ago now. Another lifetime, almost.

“Pippa,” Hecate whispers. Her hands tightening slightly on her waist. “Do you really - “

Pippa kisses her. Without preamble, without delicacy. Brings their mouths together in fierce confirmation. Deepens the kiss when Hecate gasps against her, presses every emotion she possesses into this one act, her arms flung over Hecate’s shoulders, her whole body lending momentum to the kiss.

The door of the tavern opens behind them and they wretch apart breathing heavily.

The air crackles between them as they stare at each before Pippa remembers what disturbed them and turns, shifting to stand protectively before Hecate.

A short, gray haired lady in an apron stands in the doorway, eyeing them with kind and laughing eyes. “Things have worked out between you two, I gather?” Pippa blushes and Hecate shifts behind her uncomfortably. But the woman merely laughs. “Thought you might like to take the rest of your dinner with you, see. And I threw in some additional sweets - on the house. Sorry for the trouble you were caused this evening. Won’t have that sort of nonsense in my tavern. Showed those meddling witches out through the back, I did, and they won’t be welcome to show their face in my establishment again. You can be sure about that.”

Pippa reaches out and takes the proffered package, cheeks warming. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

The woman eyes them again. “I’ll let you get back to it, but here.” A large black umbrella appears in her hand and she holds it out to Pippa as well. “We get a few Ordinaries roundabout these parts from time to time. Always leaving their umbrellas. Unable to summon them if they forget, I suppose.” She shrugs and gestures for Pippa to take the umbrella which she does.  

“You two are positively crackling with electrical magic, that’s for certain. Best mind the wet.” She smiles warmly at them once again as Pippa blushes harder. “Night then.”

She’s gone in a wink and Pippa slowly turns, a smile tugging across her face. By the time she’s facing Hecate she’s laughing. Hecate for her part manages a sheepish smile but steps closer. “My magic is _quite_ fine.” But she takes the umbrella and opens it. They stand for a moment looking at each other. Hecate bites at her bottom lip and Pippa reaches up and soothes it with her thumb, causing Hecate to gasp.

“Let’s go back to the boat.” She breathes. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we. And I want to kiss you more. Without interruption.”

Hecate looks momentarily stunned, but ducks a nod, and Pippa watches her tug her lip between her teeth again but this time it’s to bite back on a smile. She tucks herself against Hecate’s side and they step out into the storm.

The gray twilight is heavy around them and Pippa takes in the lights from the streetlamps, the green of the trees, the rust-red of the dirt as they walk together down the path back to the river. Hecate is warm once again at her side and Pippa knows she being watched. Tilting her head back she smiles up at Hecate, tugging her arm more closely through her own.

By the time they reach the boat their magic has calmed, as has the rain. It settles into a light mist around them and Hecate casts a spell to keep them dry while Pippa stows the package from the barkeep under her seat and takes up the oars again.

“Let’s get out of here, Hiccup.”

Hecate nods, her eyes dark as they rest on Pippa’s face and soon they are back on the river, the town falling away, Vicky and Tabitha falling away, until it’s just the two of them in the gathering dusk.

They make eye contact often as Pippa rows and it sets a hot pulse through her everytime she looks up to find Hecate watching her. She dips the oars and pulls and Hecate holds her eyes, something hungry behind them that Pippa welcomes and returns with a heavy gaze of her own. She bites her lip and breathes slowly, never looking away until Hecate’s nearly squirming.

They come to a secluded bend in the river with a small island to one side and calm shallows just beyond, and in silent agreement they pull up and tie the boat to a large willow that takes up most of the spit of land. Pippa magics up a tent above the boat, transforming the seats into a sort of floating houseboat. She hangs a lantern above them and the glow of it turns the interior to a warm, cozy yellow. The last of the rain taps lightly against the fabric of the tent and she sinks back down to the pillows she’s conjured, eyes finding Hecate’s once more.

They stare at one another. For a long heavy moment there’s only the sound of the rain and their breathing until Pippa finds herself unable to hold back any longer. Slowly, she crawls forward, moving closer on her hands and knees until she’s eye level with Hecate, their lips a whisper apart.

“As I was saying,” she breathes, watching carefully at the way Hecate responds with a quickening of breath.

“You were saying,” Hecate prompts when Pippa’s driven to distraction by how Hecate’s pupils have been blown wide. Hecate shifts and their lips come closer together. It’s as if she’s nearly begging Pippa to make the first move and Pippa swallows at the way her body reacts to the thought of Hecate begging her for anything.

“As I was saying,” she parts her lips and ghosts them just barely over Hecate’s and Hecate makes a sound of want and need that drives a hot white spark down through Pippa’s center. She closes the distance and Hecate makes another sound into her mouth that she returns in kind.

The kiss is only slightly more controlled than their first and Pippa’s mind goes blank at the sweetness of kissing Hecate at long last. Body taking over, she crawls forward until she’s in Hecate’s lap, knees on other side of her thighs, breaking the kiss only when the repositioning makes it necessary.  

Hecate’s breath is coming fast, her eyes shining in the lamplight. “That wasn’t words.”

Pippa moves her hands up and into Hecate’s hair, whispering a spell into Hecate’s mouth as she reclaims it, causing the dark curls to tumble free around them. “No,” she agrees, kissing Hecate’s bottom lip, “but do you,” her tongue flicks out to brush over the same spot, causing Hecate to gasp and tighten her fingers against Pippa’s back, “want me to,” she twines her fingers through Hecate’s hair and guides Hecate’s head to one side so she can kiss her jaw, “stop and,” she kisses back up, placing tiny kisses against Hecate’s lips too quickly for her to return, “form a coherent sentence?” She sucks firmly on Hecate’s bottom lip causing her to make a sharp noise before releasing her. Pulling back she raises her eyebrows at Hecate expectantly.

“No. Decidedly not.”

They’re kissing again. Heatedly. Hungrily. Pippa feels all the years and years of pent up need unfurl from within her and she moves her fingers down to trace Hecate’s cheekbones, her jawline, her chin. Hecate’s hands stay fixed on her back, curling against the fabric of her shirt and Pippa smiles into the kiss.

She’s just parted Hecate’s lips to brush her tongue with her own when Hecate draws a sharp breath and pulls back panting. Cheeks dusted pink, lips swollen, eyes dark and hair falling in a river around her shoulders, Pippa think Hecate looks like The Goddess herself. She brushes a thumb across her cheek and tries to calm her own breathing. “Is this alright?”

Hecate gasps and nods, hands finally moving up Pippa’s back, sliding up to her hair and then around until she’s cupping Pippa’s face in gentle hands.

“I never thought - “ she gasps, and Pippa watches her struggle to find words, biting her lip to give her time. “I never thought that you could feel this way. About a witch. About me.”

Gently Pippa tilts their heads together smiling at Hecate. “I always have though. Same as you have, I think.” She kisses Hecate’s cheek.  “Is that why you left?”

She tries to ask the question gently, but her heart is pounding, years of pain still a sharp ache despite present events.

Hecate looks devastated, grasping Pippa’s hands and sliding them down to rest between them as she hangs her head. Pippa can see her struggle under the weight of her emotions.

“I’m sorry,” Hecate chokes out, fingers tight on Pippa’s own. “Feeling everything I felt for you scared me.” She clings tighter to Pippa’s hands. “It still does,” she gasps but Pippa senses there’s more she wants to say and holds back. “But after we saw those girls today I couldn’t stop remembering. Wondering. I wanted that closeness back.” She raises her eyes and Pippa gasps at the pain and hope that war within them. “I’ve missed you, Pipsqueak.”

And Pippa kisses her, gently, carefully. Lets Hecate’s mouth tremble against her own, lets their tears mingle. “I’m sorry too,” she whispers. “I should have told you. Ages ago. But I thought it would only make you hate me more.”

A broken sort of sound erupts from Hecate and she turns and pulls Pippa closer to her, her face burrowing against her neck. “I never hated you. I never, could never -” Words seem to fail her and they hold each other for a time. “I tried.” she says finally. “I tried to hate you because I thought it would help make the feelings go away. But it never did.”

Pippa moves her fingers back into Hecate’s hair and works her fingertips gently against Hecate’s scalp until Hecate’s breathing calms and she guides her head back up. “And now?”

“Now,” Hecate whispers, eyes still full of a wonder that makes Pippa glow on the inside, “now I’m ready to be brave.” She catches Pippa’s wrist and brings one of her hands down to kiss her knuckles. “Now I’m ready to be more like you.”

Pippa stares down at her, emotions already so heightened that she can’t stop the tears that slip down her cheeks. Hecate reaches up to kiss them away, brushing at them with her thumbs until Pippa’s smiling into all the kisses that follow.

“You were so brave tonight, darling” Hecate struggles over the last word. Stumbles and halts her way around it, as if she’s not really sure the word is hers to say. But Pippa melts, heart tripping and quivering with joy at the endearment.

“Darling,” she hums into Hecate’s mouth, one hand still in her hair and the fingers of her other gentle on the nape of Hecate’s neck, “your darling.” Hecate flushes but parts her lips, her tongue brushing against Pippa’s bottom lip before she takes it between her own.

“My darling,” Hecate whispers again when they part and Pippa all but comes undone at the reverence in her voice. They smile at each other and Pippa’s fingers skate down to Hecate’s front, tracing the chain on her watch. Careful to disentangle it from Hecate’s hair as she pulls it over her head, she sets it gently beside them.

“I have an alarm set for just before midnight,” Hecate murmurs, suddenly looking shy. “I don’t know how much time we have before -”

Pippa shushes her with a kiss. “I’ve waited over thirty years. We’ll spend as much time together as we can. I dare say we’re both familiar enough with sexual frustration to last a while longer?”

Hecate half laughs, half whines as Pippa nips at her earlobe. “You don’t want to give up the mission?”

“I do,” Pippa sighs against Hecate’s ear, “but I fear you’d never forgive me.”

Hecate laughs again and brings her back in for a kiss and Pippa moves her hands to trace the brocade buttons of her waistcoat.  “May I?” Hecate rests their foreheads together and nods, and Pippa’s fingers work quickly, moving down the row of buttons until the fabric parts and she can push it free.

Beneath the fabric of her linen shirt, Hecate is bare, the waistcoat serving as a sort of corset, Pippa supposes, as she takes in the peak of Hecate’s nipples through the cloth and the soft curve of her chest.

Hecate gasps a little as Pippa shifts above her and her fingers trace over her, reveling in how Hecate’s body responds to her touch. She moves down a little further and brings her mouth to the fabric, feels the texture of it against her tongue as she sucks Hecate’s nipple into a hardened bud, until she can feel the texture of Hecate’s skin there too.

Above her Hecate whimpers, hands in Pippa’s hair, holding her close. When Pippa pulls back, the fabric is rendered sheer and she can see the rosy flesh below. The heat between her legs intensifies, and then intensifies again as she looks up and takes Hecate in.

“I do like beautiful things,” Pippa breaths, fingers replacing her mouth and Hecate jolts below her as she brings their mouth together.

Hecate makes a noise, almost one of disbelief beneath arousal, and Pippa brings her hands up to cup Hecate’s face. “You,” she breaths, taking in Hecate’s dark disheveled hair, the want in her eyes, her pale skin and the blush the blooms across her cheeks, “are the most beautiful thing, I have ever seen.”

Hecate cries out at that, hands suddenly on Pippa’s shoulder blades, pulling her down until Pippa’s center rests against her stomach and Pippa can’t help but buck at the contact, keening into Hecate’s mouth.

“Do you know what you do to me?” She whispers and Hecate’s eyes go wide as Pippa rolls her hips carefully against her. “Do you know what you make me feel?”

They’re kissing again and Hecate pulls her shirt free, palms tracking hotly against the skin of her back as Pippa gasps and whines. Hecate’s hand skates back down to her pants but she tears her mouth away quite suddenly. It takes Pippa a moment to realize she’s laughing.

“What -”

“These pants. _Pippa._ ” Hecate looks very aroused, and very happy, and Pippa can’t help but mock-pout at the very inconvenient disruption.

“I’ve been taunted about my wardrobe enough for one night don’t you think?”

Hecate sobers but her eyes still glimmer in amusement. “I just didn’t think they would be like you.”

Pippa shrugs. “Sometimes I just like to -” She shrugs again, feels very exposed all of a sudden, although of the two of them she’s the one still fully dressed.

Hecate does become serious then, hands cradling Pippa’s face. “You like to look the part,” she breathes. Pippa looks at her in surprise.

“You like to wear the latest fashion and the tallest heels because it makes you feel a certain way. Because it makes people see you a certain way. And you use it to your advantage.” Hecate kisses her cheek and Pippa shivers. “You like to dress in rolled up trousers and heavy boots because it makes you feel a certain way as well. Both make you feel capable. Make you feel strong.” She kisses her other cheek. “Just in different ways.”

Pippa looks down at her, bites at her lip, and Hecate brushes her fingers along her cheekbone. “I imagine you feel vulnerable quite a bit too - I don’t think I ever took time to appreciate it until today. Until what those toads we went to school with said to you. You always seemed so untouchable. But I’ve watched for years as the same people who tear you down in one moment build you up the next to impossible, impractical standards the next.” Hecate looks up at her, eyes full of something Pippa cannot hope to name. “I should have been by your side,” she whispers. “All these years. I should have been there. A place for you to come home to, a place to be vulnerable when being so strong became too much.”

Her fingers busy themselves with brushing at Pippa’s tears again she guides Pippa’s head down to her shoulder and holds her. “You’re the strongest witch I know, Pippa Pentangle. And you always will be.”

Pippa laughs a little through her tears, heart squeezing up tightly with emotion, and love, and release of all pretense as she clings to Hecate, lets herself be held, lets Hecate stroke her hair and stroke her back and whisper gentle affirmations in her ear until Pippa’s no longer trembling with emotion, but rather desire. She turns her head and meets Hecate’s mouth with her own, stilling her words, returning them with deliberately wanton kisses instead.

Their kisses build until suddenly her pants and boots vanish and Hecate gazes up at her with that same pleased look that graced her face at dinner. And Pippa’s suddenly very aware of the sticky wetness between her legs, barred only from Hecate’s skin by her sodden underwear and the thin fabric of Hecate’s blouse. They both look down at where their bodies meet and blush, Hecate nudging their noses together a little shyly.

“Is this alright?” Pippa breathes again, shifting a little at the exposure and Hecate trails a hand up Pippa’s bare thigh, up under her shirt, up to unclasp her bra and skirt around to her front until Pippa is helplessly arching against her.

“Is this?” Hecate counters, her voice low and Pippa shudders and hisses at her touch.  She trails a finger around Pippa’s nipple. “Is that a yes?”

Pippa presses herself more firmly against her until Hecate whimpers. “What do you think?”

“I think I’ve ruined our lives enough by making assumptions.” Hecate’s voice sounds wry, but there’s pain in it as well, and Pippa straightens until they’re eye to eye.

“I like this.” She assures her, holding her gaze unblinkingly. “I like this. I like you.” She leans in and kisses her and Hecate shifts her hand to roll Pippa’s nipple between her fingers.

“Correction,” Pippa groans, her head lolling back. “I love this. I love you.”

Hecate laughs and leans in to move her mouth against the hollow of Pippa’s throat, one hand moving lower to grasp the edge of Pippa’s blouse, slowly dragging it higher, and higher and -

A ringing fills the tent, emanating from Hecate’s watch, and they freeze, Pippa struggling to still her hips from where they ache to press more intensely against Hecate.

“Drat.”

They look at each other. “We don’t have to -” Hecate begins.

“But you want to.” Pippa pushes a strand of hair behind Hecate’s ear and Hecate turns her head swiftly to kiss her palm.

“I do. But I want this too.”

“I think,” Pippa murmurs kissing her gently, “we are in the same boat.”

Hecate rears back and stares at her. “Did you just?”

Pippa smirks at her.

“Cheeky,” Hecate brings her hand down and cups Pippa’s rear, blushing the whole time like she’s not quite sure she’s allowed to make a joke or touch Pippa there, let alone a combination of the two.

Pippa runs her fingers down Hecate’s sides, watching as she shivers. “Let’s do our collecting. And then I am all yours.” She kisses Hecate swiftly and makes to move off her her but Hecate catches her head and deepens the kiss.

“Mine,” She whispers.

“Yours.”

She lets her go then and Pippa slides to the side, shivering a bit in the cold air. “Leave your hair down?”

Hecate holds her gaze for a moment and then slowly nods.

“I’ll meet you out there - I -” Pippa feels self conscious and flushes. “I need a moment to -”

“Collect yourself?” Hecate’s looking at her smugly and Pippa rolls her eyes.

“Something like that.”

Hecate snorts and departs, though Pippa’s pleased to see that the waistcoat remains in a tangled bunch on the floor across from her.

“We won’t need a weather spell,” Hecate calls to her from outside.“The skies are quite clear now.”

Smiling as Hecate’s voice continues to drift over her, reciting the visible constellations and calculating the moon’s path above them, Pippa tries to calm her breathing, calm her aching, wanting body.  She counts to ten and then magicks her shirt longer until it comes to her knees, quickly removing her underthings and smoothing down her hair. Only when she’s quiet certain she has the restraint to not press Hecate to the ground where she stands and take her right there on the riverbank, does steel herself and rise.

She exists the tent and Hecate takes her hand and helps her step onto the shore.

“Feeling like a nereid?” Hecate smiles at her and Pippa smiles back, standing on her bare tiptoes to kiss her cheek.  “There was a rumor in the family that one of my ancestors fell in love and was drowned by a nereid. Rather a dark spot of shame on the family tree.” Hecate’s eyeing her, something playful in her gaze.

“I won’t drown you, I promise.” Pippa tugs on Hecate’s hand and leads her to down the shore, stopping at the water’s edge.  “You know our witching ancestors always wore white ceremonial robes to collect their full moon harvests.” She loops her arms around Hecate’s waist and kisses her, fiddling with the clasp at the back of her skirt until it falls away and Hecate grasps into her mouth.

“Pipsqueak - !”

Laughing Pippa performs the same spell on Hecate’s blouse as on her own and leads her further into the water.

“You know we _can_ just summon the plants. We’re _witches_ , as you so helpfully reminded me this morning.”

“Yes, but you know they’re most potent when collected by hand - here.” She conjures two silver daggers and passes one to Hecate. “Get collecting, the sooner we’re back in the boat -” she lets her eyes drag over Hecate’s lithe form and doesn’t bother to finish the sentence as Hecate blushes silver in the moonlight.

Performing a tricky sort of spell to allow her to breath underwater, Pippa ducks below the surface and enters the twilight world where plants wave in green-grey hues in the gentle current and fish flit and dart about her. She swims to the calmest patch of water and sets about gathering Hecate’s pondweed, casting a nonverbal spell to send the ingredients to the shore as she moves on to catch tiny three-spined sticklebacks in a silver net.

The moon shines down through the water, casting eerie silver shadows against the underwater landscape and Pippa thinks it looks quite lovely. Or maybe it’s just the way Hecate looks where she works off to the left of Pippa, her hair strewn out about her like a mermaid, her body slim and elegant as she clips spiked hornwort and milfoil.

They work in determine concentration for a time, but Pippa can still feel Hecate’s hands hot against her skin, sliding up her back, across her chest. Her nipples are pebbled against the chill of the water and it’s hard not to long for the warm of Hecate’s mouth there instead. She longs to know the feel of Hecate’s skin against her own, all barriers gone, all distractions and interruptions placed behind them.

She looks up and finds Hecate watching her beneath the water and suddenly the silver net and dagger are gone from her hands. Hecate floats before her instead, skin pale in the moonlight, hair nearly lost in the darkness of the river weeds around them. Pippa reaches out and Hecate comes to her, surprisingly warm against the Pippa’s chilled hands. It must be her magic, Pippa considers. But when Hecate tugs her closer, her hands insistent on her hips, Pippa revises her opinion as she takes in the naked desire in Hecate’s eyes.

They kiss languidly, bubbles floating up from between them, their hair mingling in the current, their bodies floating in weightlessness as they twine together in the river bed. Pippa brushes her hands up Hecate’s sides, over her breasts, sparking with longing as Hecate arches into her palms. She slides back down to her hips and tugs her up, pulling her through the water until they break the surface, mouths meeting hungrily, skin sliding against skin beneath the fabric of their shifts.

Pippa kicks and brings them to shallower water, pulling Hecate more firmly against her, reveling in the feel of the sharpness of her hips against her stomach, the swell of her breasts against her own.  “I think we’ve collected enough,” she gasps, biting at Hecate’s lower lip and Hecate moans in agreement, though she draws back, eyes bright.

“We haven’t collected the marginals, only the aquatics.”

Pippa drops her head against Hecate’s damp shoulder and growls. “I thought this trip would be romantic. I thought we’d come out here and collect our ingredients _fully clothed_. That I’d flirt with you silly, and that you would never even notice, and my heart would feel waterlogged as usual but that I wouldn’t trade it for the world even though you didn’t love me back. I thought I would live vicariously through the romantic atmosphere while longing for things that could never be. I thought I’d take what I could get.”

Hecate tilts her chin up, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “But I do love you back.”

Pippa bites down on her lip to halt the dopey grin that threatens to break across her face and schools her features into a pout. “But I didn't know _any_ of that. I didn’t count on being half naked with you. It’s so distracting.”

“Are you afraid I’ll think less of you for it?” Hecate’s gaze is suddenly serious and she hums a bit when Pippa merely sighs. “I know I always made you feel badly about falling off task. It’s only that everything came naturally to you. I could study and study and you would put in less than half the time and get nearly the same marks.” She kisses Pippa and nips at her lower lip. “It was infuriating. Really.”

Pippa blinks at her, tongue poking out to soothe her lip where Hecate marked her. Hecate’s thumb replaces it, stroking gently. “I have to admit, I was always rather jealous. Not of you finishing your work in short order, I loved you for that, but the fact that it meant you went off with the other girls while I stayed with my books. Horribly jealous.”

“Hiccup -”

“I know. It’s foolish. But the fact that you want me now - ” it comes out as a question and Pippa nods swiftly. Hecate continues at the affirmation, “I know you want to keep collecting as well. But that you want me more,” she leans in, her breath ghosting against Pippa’s lips, “and I can’t be upset about that.” She edges closer. “Not when it’s all I ever wanted.”

And Pippa closes the distance, hands tangling in Hecate’s wet shift, mouth meeting hers in desperate kiss after desperate kiss. She pulls her closer and Hecate arches against her thigh, crying out as Pippa presses her down against her. “I want,” Pippa all but growls, hands insistent on Hecate’s hips. “I want.”

Hecate whimpers but stills, pulling back and peppering Pippa’s face with small kisses. “Yes. But there’s one thing first.”

She steps back and suddenly is gone, disappearing amongst the reeds as Pippa huffs.

“Hiccup?”

“Horse, Pippa. Hold them.”

Shivering in the night air, Pippa crosses her arms across her chest, splashing up the shoreline to the river bank. She’s just about to plop down on a rock to wait for whatever it is Hecate is up to when Hecate reappears, her arms laden with flowers, one bunch yellow, one bunch purple.

“Yellow loosestrife because it’s practical.” She hold out bunch in her right hand. “And purple,” she presents her left, “because you love it.”

Pippa can only gape at her, emotion too heavy in her chest to respond appropriately. “Forget there starwort, and watercress, and brooklime,” Hecate smiles down at her. “We’ll just have to come back next month.”

Pippa moves then, ducking into Hecate’s embrace until Hecate’s arms close around her, the flowers brushing against her back. “I love you,” she whispers into Hecate’s sternum, raising her face when Hecate whispers the same. She spells the flowers to rest amongst their other ingredients and takes Hecate’s hand.

The air around them shivers with a near electrical charge as Pippa leads her back towards the boat, every step a promise of what is to come. When they reach their little floating shelter she turns, rising on her toes to kiss Hecate’s forehead.

“Will you come to bed with me?” She smiles at Hecate’s shy nod and sides her hands against the wet of Hecate’s dress, pulling it up and over her head until she’s naked in the moonlight. Hecate does the same, gasping a little as Pippa’s naked body moves to press against her own, and Pippa sighs in relief at the contact.

She slides Hecate’s underwear off her long legs, helping her step out of them and smiles encouragingly as Hecate’s suddenly bashful posture and uncertain eyes. “The witchiest witch,” she murmurs against her lips, “my Hecate,” before taking her hand again and stepping back into the boat, guiding Hecate into the tent and pulling her gently down so that the kneel together on the makeshift floor.

Slowly she nudges Hecate backwards, noses touching, almost kissing her but not quite until Hecate rests amongst the pillows, her wet hair spread out around her. Only then does Pippa kiss her. Rests on her elbows above her and gives her time to adjust to the sensation of their bodies pressing together, skin to skin, heat to heat. She kisses her slowly, then less slowly. Trails her mouth down her neck and drags her tongue across peaked nipples. “I love you,” she breathes, and Hecate’s fingers tighten in her hair.

She shifts and trails a hand down Hecate’s side, and back up and then down again, watching her face intently, watching the way her eyelids flutter as she bites her lip. She slides lower, her hand grazing over Hecate’s hipbone and lower still, down her thigh and up the inside. She pauses, fingers careful, and Hecate blinks open her eyes. “I’d like to touch you.” Pippa can barely breath under the weight of the moment but Hecate shifts beneath her, opening herself up to her and Pippa sighs, pressing tiny kisses to the corner of Hecate’s mouth as her fingers climb higher.

“I want to learn what you like,” she murmurs, as her fingers find hot flesh. They both shiver and Hecate grips her back, as Pippa moves against her.

“This,” she breathes. “I like this. More of this.”

Hecate rocks against her and Pippa presses more firmly, breath catching in her throat at the sheen of sweat that beads Hecate’s brow, at how she makes low and needy sounds as Pippa touches her. Hecate’s fingers dig against her back and she keens as Pippa moves lower, circling her entrance. “More, I - _please_.”

“This?” She presses slightly and Hecate hisses her assent, bucking up against her.

“Yes, that.”

Slowly Pippa sides into her, her own body contracting at the sensation of Hecate warm and wet around her fingers. She pulls out at Hecate’s gasp for more and adds a second finger, crying out as she returns to her heat and the way Hecate’s muscles pull at her fingers, fluttering and contracting as they move together.

The boat rocks in time to their motions, the water slapping at the hull. It urges Pippa on, she moves faster, and faster still, presses her forehead down against Hecate’s and drinks in her cries, breathes her pleas, and nearly weeps at the intimacy of it all. At how beautiful Hecate looks beneath her, how undone, how eagerly she is to submits to Pippa’s touch, and how far this is from the prim and buttoned-up face Hecate presents to the world.

Hecate comes apart against her fingers, crying into her mouth, arms pulling her down, close and tight against her chest as the final shocks roll through her. She twitches and stills, shivering slightly. Pippa sighs into her neck, content to lay beside her, fingers gentle within her still trembling body as she comes down, breath uneven and unsteady, tears track down her cheeks.

“Darling,” Pippa whispers, slowly sliding her hand free and Hecate hisses at the movement. She slides over her again and kisses away the tears, “are you quite alright?”

Hecate nods and breathes sharply through her nose. “I fear I’ve embarrassed myself.”

Pippa gentle cups her face and studies her seriously. “Do you? I think that was glorious. And gorgeous.”

“You do?” She frowns up at her and Pippa brushes her fingers across the lines in her forehead to smooth them. “I think if I don’t get to see you like this at least once a day for the rest of my life I shall be very deprived indeed.”

“Once a day?” Hecate gapes at her.

“At _least_.”

“More than once -?” But Pippa’s already sliding down, tongue circling Hecate’s nipples, laving down her stomach, following the course her hand had charted before until she’s between Hecate’s thighs, gazing up at her.

“Oh.”

“Good oh?”

“I - I  - ”

Pippa places a small kiss on the inside of her thigh.

“Are you - sure?” Hecate swallows, her voice uncharacteristically small.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in all my life.” Pippa entwines their fingers and rests them atop Hecate’s stomach.

“But you’re the most decisive person I know.” Hecate’s staring at her and Pippa grins.

“I know.”

Hecate sighs but softens slightly. “Pippa.”

“If you don’t like it I’ll stop - “

Hecate squeezes her hand. “It’s not that I don’t think that I’ll like it,” she says in a very pained voice that barely disguises her need.

“You just think that I won’t?”

Hecate shrugs and looks embarrassed.

“Hecate.” Pippa holds her gaze and narrows her eyes, let’s all of the desire pooling low within her at the thought of this act show plainly on her face. “I’ve thought about this for years. Please believe me when I say you’re not the only one who will derive pleasure from this.”

Hecate flushes, her chest suddenly rising and falling rapidly as she holds Pippa’s gaze. “Pippa,” she whispers and Pippa feels her relax further. She strokes the inside of her thigh with gentle fingers until Hecate is nearly writhing, her hips softening so that Pippa can nudge her way between them and take Hecate into her mouth.

Hecate makes a noise above her and Pippa echoes it, one hand still clasped in Hecate’s and the other moving down to grip her thigh. Hecate tastes like river water and something uniquely Hecate and Pippa loses herself in finding out just what makes her call out, and shudder, and spasm against her until at last, all too soon, she shattering, fingers squeezing Pippa’s own, her voice tripping over Pippa’s name again and again until it’s rendered unrecognizable.

When she stills, Pippa slides back up and rather breathlessly kisses her. Let’s Hecate taste herself and smiles at the sound she makes at the realization. “At _least_ once a day,” Pippa reminds her.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Hecate scowels but her eyes are filled with joy like Pippa’s never seen them.

“I hope not, Hiccup. You see, what I’d like now is for both of us to live.” She goes to kiss her but Hecate stops her, pushing her up as she slides forward and sits.

“Pippa,” she breathes again and kisses her. There’s so much in that kiss, so much that Pippa knows Hecate isn’t saying aloud, but is telling her through the press of her lips and the dip of her tongue, that when they part Pippa feels her eyes glow hot with tears.

“I love you,” Hecate rasps, voice low with emotion. With something else.

And Pippa finds herself being pressed down and into the pillows, Hecate’s hair a second tent around them as she kisses her, kisses her, kisses her. “I love you,” she repeats and kisses her some more. Kisses her cheeks and her jaw, and her eyelids and her neck. Moves lower and takes Pippa’s nipple in her mouth, tugs on it until Pippa’s moaning nonsensically and thrusting uselessly up against her, desperate for contact where she needs it most.

Fire, pure fire races through her blood and she nearly sobs with need. “Hecate, please - I -”

Hecate raises her head and kisses her again. “You’ve waited so long,” she says gently. “I made you wait so long.”

And Pippa trembles when Hecate’s hand finds her heat, when her fingers part her and when they move inside her. When Hecate slides down and kneels between her thighs, holds her gaze with utter, unquestioning desire written across her features and takes Pippa into her mouth until Pippa is cursing at the stars, shuddering, and thrashing, and gripping fistfuls of Hecate’s long ebony hair as she shatters into a light bright enough to skatter all the dark, Hecate-less years that came before this moment in its wake.

She doesn’t know how long she lingers amongst sun flares of her pleasure but when she comes back to herself, Hecate is stretched out above her looking very catlike in her loose limbs and smug expression.

“Hi,” Pippa exhales, still feeling fuzzy and blissfully weak.

“Pippa,” Hecate intones gazing down at her fondly.

“I think you rendered me unconscious.”

“I went out and picked some starwort while you were out. Idleness never suited me.”

Pippa laughs and raises a hand to ineffectually swat at her. “You did not.”

“I did not,” Hecate agrees, nuzzling her collarbone before dropping a kiss there.

When she looks up her gaze is serious. “I’m not leaving you again.” Her voice cracks on the last word and Pippa cups her cheek. “Not ever again.”

“I won’t let you,” Pippa whispers back, pulling her further into her arms and tangling their legs. She can feel Hecate’s heart beat against her own chest. “I won’t ever let you.”

Hecate traces a finger along her shoulder and Pippa winces, frowning down at the angry red mark that sears her skin. Hecate shifts onto a elbow and raises her eyebrows, though her eyes are gentle with concern. “I can’t believe you got so angry that your magic reacted with _water_.”

“I had a good reason to be angry,” Pippa smooths her hands along Hecate’s long back, enjoying the way her muscles ripple in the wake of her hands.

“You did. But _water_ , Pippa.”

Pippa tugs her down and moves her mouth along to the same location on Hecate’s skin, sucking hot, wet kisses there until the skin turns red and mottled.

“Pippa. Pentangle.” Hecate’s eyes are narrow but she’s struggling to breath properly and Pippa grins, rolling them over she she’s astride Hecate’s hips smiling down at her.

“I rather think you like me all hot and bothered anyway.”

Hecate blinks at her hazily, as if remembering something. Pippa knows exactly what it is and presses a little more firmly down against Hecate’s stomach once again.

“I think I like all of this far too much,” Hecate whispers.

“No such thing,” Pippa moves to kiss her but stops when her stomach growls. They stare at each other, nose inches apart. And Hecate laughs, deep, and full, and like something from a dream Pippa might have had recently about Hecate in their childhood, fragmented memories swirling through her brain about Hecate even in her sleep. She kisses Hecate quiet and draws back, summoning their hamper and pulling out the strawberries.

Holding one up she smiles wickedly down at Hecate and slowly brings it to her lips, meeting Hecate’s suddenly dark gaze as she takes a bite and swallows, tongue darting out to lick her lips.

“Pippa.” It’s hardly a breath and Pippa finishes the strawberry and selects another, bringing it to Hecate’s lips.

Hecate reaches up and takes it from her. “I’ll eat it, but I’m not eating anything while lying down. It would hardly be becoming to choke.” She shifts Pippa off her and sits.

“Becoming,” Pippa murmurs, putting emphasis on the last two syllabils of the word as she twines herself around Hecate from behind, a hand trailing down to between Hecate’s legs.

Hecate does choke then, and Pippa takes the half eaten strawberry and sets it aside, tilting Hecate’s head back to let their mouths taste the berry on each others lips as she begins to slowly thrust within her. Hecate gasps and shudders and Pippa buries her face into her neck from behind, savoring the closeness, holding on to every moment that Hecate trembles in her arms and tucking them away into all the ragged hollows of her heart, sighing as Hecate comes hard, Pippa’s name on her lips, as a million tattered threads knit together again to form a whole heart within her once again.

Hecate sags against her and Pippa kisses her cheek before sliding forward and rummaging about until she procures the package from the barkeep.

“She said she gave us extra sweets. I hope -”  She undoes the twine and pops the lip open. “Yes. Excellent. Donuts.”

Hecate eyes her from where she reclines on her elbows, a sheen of sweat still slicked over her skin, her eyes slightly unfocused.

“How are you not exhausted?”

“Well,” Pippa looks up innocently from where she’s selected the pinkest, most healivy iced treat, her fingers moving suggestively as she brings it to her lips. “I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself.” She takes a large bite, lungs straining to hold in her laughter as Hecate’s eyes fly open as her words and her actions sink in.

Suddenly the donut is gone from her hand, vanished to who knows where. But Pippa can’t really complain. Not when she finds herself back in Hecate’s lap. Not when Hecate’s looking at her with a greater hunger than Pippa has for any donut. Which, if she’s honest with herself, is really saying something.

Hecate scrapes her teeth along the ridge of Pippa’s clavicle and soothes the skin with her tongue, her hands sliding back to Pippa’s chest to touch her in a way that makes Pippa forget donuts. Forget strawberries. Forget everything but the feel of Hecate’s hands against her skin, one of them trailing lower as her mouth moves to her neck.

Head tipped back, Pippa knows she’s making awfully indecent noises, thanks the moon for being their only witness as Hecate drives her higher and higher until she overflows from the sensation of Hecate’s fingers within her, her tongue on her neck, her whispered adorations. And Pippa slams back to earth, her nails scraping track marks down Hecate’s back with her release.

Later, after slow kisses and gentle words, after Pippa has eaten at least two donuts and they’ve had a bit more of their long forgotten dinners, they settle side by side, eyes warm and filled with promise.

Pippa reaches up and spells out the light, twirling her fingers for a moment until the top of the tent turns to mesh and the last of the moonlight peaks in, covering them in a soft, silvery blanket.

“My Hiccup,” she whispers into Hecate’s hair, thrilling when Hecate hums against her.

The boat rocks gently and Pippa melts into the arms that hold her, a smile tugging at her lips.

Vaguely, she thinks, as sleep creeps over her, that she’s ready for whatever adventure life brings her way next.

So long as they face it together.


End file.
